What Did I Do?

The Flashback

Clare POV

I was sitting on the patio with Dallas. He was drinking a beer, while I stuck with a water. We were talking about how his team was doing at practices. True, I was not really interested in hockey of any sort, but I was making small talk, like I was always taught to do.

"Well, it kinda sucks with two players down." He said, referring to Cam, who committed suicide, and Luke, who was recently sent to jail for sexual assault of another student.

"I would bet," I replied, taking a sip of my water.

"Yeah, it's been a bit rough on the team's morale, but we're slowly building back up." He took a swig of his beer.

"I'm sure everything will be fine with you as captain." I said reassuringly. The sliding glass door scraped across its tracks as it was moved by a very angry-looking Drew Torres.

"Clare, can we talk? Alone?" He said pointedly in Dallas' direction.

Dallas got up, took a drink of his beer and walked into the house, just barely grazing by my fuming boyfriend.

I stayed silent as Drew looked down at me.

"What do you think you were doing with Dallas?"

"Um, talking with him? I was waiting for you to come home from school." I explained level-headedly, "Dallas was here, so I decided to sit and talk with him instead of mope around here like a loser."

"That is a load of bullshit, Clare, and you know it." Drew replied.

"How is that bullshit? It's the truth!" I exclaimed.

Before I knew it, Drew had my arm twisted behind my back and I was faced away from him.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Clare. I know you've been cheating on me." He said quietly in my ear. I yelled, and then his hand was over my mouth, muffling any noise that could possibly have escaped me. "You've been fucking Dallas behind my back. And who knows, maybe even Eli, too. He is back in town, right?" I could feel him getting angrier and angrier behind me, thinking up hundreds of false scenarios in which I have been unfaithful to him. "Maybe it's time I teach you a lesson."

My arm was ripped back around and suddenly I was facing a red-faced monster. This was not my boyfriend. He was nowhere close to that sweet guy from yesterday. This was a guy who was trained in MMA fighting, and more than willing to use it on his girlfriend to prove a point.

His grip was tight at a tourniquet around my wrist as he pulled open the sliding glass door and dragged me through it. I could feel his jagged nails digging into my flesh as we travelled through the media room that doubled as Dallas' bedroom. I bit my lip to keep from making noise out of fear of what could happen if a peep came out of me. Why couldn't I just not be polite and make that God forsaken small talk?

He finally let go of my wrist in front of his bedroom door. He then opened up access to the room and walked behind me, forcefully pushing me in.

Holy shit. What happened to him? This isn't the guy I started dating two months ago.

He pushed me onto the bed in the middle of the room. I was on my stomach. I couldn't see him. My dress was snug against my chest, and the flowy taffeta was clinging to my thighs in all the wrong places. In any other circumstance, I would be embarrassed as to how my lover, or former lover, was seeing me. But I was just scared, scared for my life, for my sanity, and most of all, for my mental health after all this was over.

Darcy had been through this, but she didn't know the guy, she didn't remember it happening.

I heard the foil package ripping. If I were any more naïve, I would think he was making Top Ramen, but I knew better. This was going to hurt.

My clingy skirt was lifted, and I lost all my dignity.